


The Start of a Beautiful Partnership

by laCommunarde



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: First Meetings, Gen, M/M, Prison, prison break - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 08:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8320372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laCommunarde/pseuds/laCommunarde
Summary: Anonymous asked: I wish you would write a fic where Len and Mick meet for the first time during a prison break and they end up running away together.





	

Mick was in the SHU again. He’d gotten used to it. Lose temper at anyone, even when they deserved it, in the SHU. He had particularly lost it at the CO for abusing some scared kid who really shouldn’t have been in adult prison at all except that the DA had wanted to make an example, and he had called their BS. Well, “called” wouldn’t exactly be the right word. They had beaten him up and tossed him in the SHU for a week that time. He didn’t like going in for a week. It screwed him up something bad.

Today, they’d just tossed him in for starting a fire in PI again. Most of the time, he couldn’t help it, though he tried to, as he kept telling the shrink they had assigned him to. His hands got itchy and things lit on fire. Okay, he lit things on fire – he knew he was responsible for the things that got lit on fire – but he was trying not to. That had to count for something. Of course, it didn’t help that matches were one of the easier things to get in prison. And someone had found his old lighter and slipped it into his cell for him during the day one day, which both kind of helped and really didn’t: on one hand, it made it easier to start fires; but on the other, it felt familiar and therefore lessened the itch to start the fire in the first place. Well, most times.

Today, though, that fire had been somebody making him mad harassing one of the kids and he’d lit the back of the asshole’s shirt on fire. Asshole’s prison name was Grimy, no idea what his actual name was, even less desire to find out. Grimy deserved it. At least that kid wouldn’t be getting in any more harassment, or at least not from Grimy, and likely from anyone else either, if they knew what was good for them. Few people really picked on people Fireman defended (he still smiled at his nickname). They might have thought he was getting something out of it, saving that kid. He didn’t know nor care.

So he was sitting in the SHU. Two days this time. He could handle two days. And, hey, at least they hadn’t taken his lighter away.

His door panel swung open. “Dinner,” came the CO’s voice.

“Officer,” he said, going over to the door to get the food that was passed through. He looked at it. He wished he had thought better of it. “Officer, come on. Could I be assigned to the cooking staff? Is that a PI job? Because even I can make better food than this crap.”

“Eat it, Rory,” the officer said. He rocked his head back, having forgotten how green this particular CO was, but was pointed out to him again through use of his last name. “Though, I can see about maybe getting you some better food tomorrow, if you could tell me about what Grimy was doing that made you light him and what his expression was like when he found out you did.” He couldn’t help but smile. The new officer was alright, particularly if that is all that he wanted, instead of trying to get some other favor from him. Darn, that meant he’d have to remember the officer’s name - when he got out of the SHU at any rate. In the SHU, he would have to crane his neck at an angle to almost dislocate it to even have a hope of seeing the CO’s new tag.

“He was harassing that new kid. Trying to get favors out of him.”

“Snart’s kid or the other one?”

“Other one.” He paused and thought about it. He had heard of Snart, of course – who in here hadn’t? Cop was greasier than dirtiest of dirty CO’s – but he had never met the man, either when he was in the can or when he used to be a cop, unlike some of the lifers in here, and he had heard that he ran with his kid now, that his kid was the brains of their team and was the reason Lewis had not been in serving his time in a while, but apparently the little thief had been caught. “Wasn’t aware Snart’s kid was in here. He anything like his old man?”

“Don’t know.” Ah, the turning a blind-eye act, though it didn’t sound like it was on the part of the CO. Old Man Snart must have someone high up in the prison’s protection, probably through one of the Families. He wondered which of the Families it was. “What’s it to you anyway?”

“Don’t know. Just curious.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I can’t tell you anything other than my personal opinion that he shouldn’t be in here, but he already was in juvie once, so they sentenced him here instead of community service.” Ah, that rule that always went in favor of a harsher sentence.

“Yeah?”

“You ever met him?”

He shook his head, calling to mind that anyone he met could be last name Snart with people’s nicknames in prison. “I don’t think so. We all got prison nicknames in the yard. He could be that kid I shooed Grimey away from for all I know.”

“Well, don’t,” said the CO.

“Don’t what?” Mick asked.

“Meet him. You’re only in here for minor theft.”

“And arson.” He felt the need to remind the CO.”

“Well, yes.” The CO’s face flushed – he must have forgotten that.

He laughed. “Remember why I’m in here, officer.”

“Right…” the officer said.

“Go on. Get on your way.”

“Well, have a good rest of the day.”

He snorted a laugh. “Prisoner. Remember that.”

The CO left, probably blushing redder than a tomato.

Mick sat back on the bed with his tray and stuck a fork into whatever they were trying to pass off as meat that day. It didn’t wiggle. Well, it didn’t wiggle too bad.

The grate on the floor moved while he was stealing himself up to eat the thing. He put the fork down and watched as the grate moved the rest of the way aside and a young man’s head popped out of it, and holy cow if that wasn’t the prettiest young man he’d ever seen – gorgeous lips, even prettier eyes, gorgeous cheekbones – and that included the male models whose picture only rarely showed up in the magazines that arrived at the prison – and he was cutting that thought off right there. All he knew was Grimy wasn’t getting anywhere near this guy if he could help it, neither was Hector, nor Brick, nor Sweetie – heck, no one in the entire prison was going anywhere this guy.

The man’s eyes turned on him and narrowed his eyes. “Huh. This room was empty when I cased it yesterday.” The guy raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well, I was only put in here today,” Mick explained.

“Huh.” The guy tipped his head, considering. “Well, nothing else for it then. Want to escape?” He pulled himself the rest of the way out of the grate – long legs, socked feet, long fingers that looked extremely skilled at whatever their owner put his mind to.

“Yeah. Sure, everybody does. But how are you gonna pull it off?”

The guy reached back into the pipe and pulled up a rope with shoes and a small bag attached. He took the bag off the rope, put the rope in the bag and slid the grate back into place. “That wall is loose,” he gestured at the back wall. “Need it to get through to the walkway on the other side.” He walked over to it, pulled something out of his bag and slipped it under one of the cinder blocks in the wall. The grout there must have been loose.

“What was that?” Mick nodded at the hole.

“So it won’t make noise.” The guy smiled a smug little expression, took out another pen and slid it into the opposite side of the cinder block. Mick watched with fascination, guessing that the entire outside of the block must be drilled out. They guy slid a line into the side of it, and something in the other side, that he apparently hooked around the thing he had slid around in the opposite side and pulled out a rope, and then pulled out a thin tube, like the outside of a pen. He tied the ends of the rope around a nail shoved into the grout on the blocks on either side. Then he slid the outside of the pen through the top, with a rope through it and slid the other piece in the bottom to loop around the line, and he tied those onto nails as well. He gave the center block a loose shove and it slid easily. He turned back to Mick with a grin. “You look strong. Wanna do the honors?” He nodded at the wall.

Mick shot a smile back. “Where do I push?”

“If you push there,” he brushed his hand against one place, “and there,” he touched another, “it will slide out of place.”

Mick did. The cinder block slid out easily, getting caught on the rope, and the guy unlooped it from the top nail and let it down.

“After you,” he waved him through. Mick climbed through. The guy followed him, setting a book into place and sliding the cinder block back into place.

“Let’s go.”

Mick followed. They walked down the back corridor for a ways until the guy stopped, indicating Mick’s shoes and his own shoes still slung over his shoulder. Mick took his shoes off.

The guy opened a panel in the wall, similar to the one the food was handed through in the SHU. He put his finger to his lips and nodded at the panel. Mick went to check the panel, finding he could see the entire CO’s locker room. There were a few of them there, talking and laughing with each other. He looked back at the guy and found him crouched down, fishing for something in his bag. He seemed to have found it because he looked up and met Mick’s eyes then lifted a canister of something.

He tipped his head at the panel. Mick found the guy tipped his head very expressively: he could understand what he meant as if they had discussed it ahead of time. Mick waved him over and pointed out where the guards were in the room. The guy peered at them and then tossed the canister across the room into the corner, hitting a metal plate to the floor. The guards all clamored to their feet in a second and had their guns out in another. “Go check it out,” said one of them to another, but all of them followed.

“Idiots,” the guy spat in the biggest display of emotion he’d seen since the guy had shown up in the cell in SHU. “Idiot assholes.”

Mick gave a nod.

The guy turned to him sharply and handed him another canister, closed the first panel and walked down the hall to a second, which he opened. He mimed that Mick should light the bottom of it on fire. Mick pulled out his lighter and light it up. The can started smoking. The guy nodded and mimed that he should toss it at the doorway along the far wall, down the direction they had come. Mick aimed and the canister went rolling down the hallway, making a noise like a motorcycle without a muffler as it went.

The guy gave an impressed nod, touching Mick’s shoulder with those long fingers of his – the guy must have a hell of a time in the winter given how his hands were already five degrees below room temperature – and threw open the wall – Mick had been unaware that it was a door, but so it seemed to be – and the guy grabbed him and pulled him across the room, while the police were only in the hallway right outside. Any of them could turn around at any moment.

The guy pulled him behind the row of lockers, and indicated they should crouch down. When there was no change in the conversation of the guards wondering what the canister was and where it had come from, he tapped Mick’s shoulder and indicated he should run lookout. Mick turned to peak around the corner, but sure enough, the officers were still busy with the canister, which was now smoking enough to start filling the immediate vicinity and the CO’s faces.

He turned to look back at the guy, who was lock picking a door in the opposite wall. It opened and he tried to slide it open. However, it was stuck. He smacked his hand against the wall – Mick had to admire his way of doing that while making no sound – and indicated to Mick that he should look again. The officers were coming back in, laughing and holding the can, which they must have run under water because it was no longer smoking as much as it had been. Mick indicated they were. The guy pulled at the door again. Mick looked at it and saw the problem. He went over, put a hand on the guy’s shoulder, making the guy turn to him with a momentary expression like he wanted to murder him before that expression turned to a smile, took a pin out of the hinge and swung open the door.

It was a large closet with a large laundry bin in it. The guy shoved him in and climbed in beside him, catching the door to close it behind them without making a sound. “What are we…?”

“Shut up,” the guy hissed at him and shoved him down into the clothes.

An alarm sounded. Outside, the sound of the CO’s running out of the room clattered through the guards’ room. He shoved his head up. “Stay put.” The guy shoved him back down. They stayed there as police cars roared to life and raced off outside, and as multiple guards ran back in to grab their guns and were called off to report on the situation. Before they went, they talked:

“That kid arrested for the Depaulo job.”

“Good job too. He would have gotten away with it.”

“Yeah, but you know his old man.”

“Him?”

“Yeah, and the arsonist along with him.”

“How’d he get from one side of gen pop over to the SHU?”

“I have no idea.”

“Didn’t know those two had ever met.”

“Just goes to show you can’t trust ‘em.”

“That wasn’t the kid he lit Grimes on fire for harassing, was he?”

“Nah. That’s Jeremy Richards.”

“Check to make sure he’s in his cell.”

The guards headed back out.

And there was silence.

The guy stuck his head up and pulled Mick up as well. “Do you hear anything?”

Mick shook his head. “I think they’re gone.”

The guy climbed out of the laundry bin and fished out two CO uniforms. “Here. Put this on.”

Mick put on the jacket and the pants. They fit, which was pretty talented of the guy, sizing him up based on never having seen him before. He glanced over at the guy, who was fastening his own jacket and pants. The guy must have felt Mick staring, because he turned to him and gave him a studying expression. “Now we go out.” He handed Mick a hat and put on one of his own.

They walked out of there through the entrance Mick had tossed the can down. The smart guy pushed a door to the right open, and then they were outside the prison. They walked along the wall and then started across the field in the direction of the fence.

A group of COs was standing a little ways off, smoking from the looks of it. Mick nudged the guy and pointed at them. The guy turned to him with a sly smile and inclined his head, and then started approaching them. Mick’s heart skipped a beat. However his fellow escapee approached like he wanted to get caught again and said to the guards, “Hey, my partner and I was called in from Keystone. What’s the protocol over here for a prison break?”

“We’re the skeleton crew. We wait just in case any of the other inmates decide to try anything.”

“So we missed the chance to track down the prisoners? Shucks,” the guy said. “In that case, can I get a cigarette? My partner has a lighter but I forgot them in the van, which the rest of the team has already taken out to find these guys. Lucky them.”

Mick could have sworn he was listening to a magic worker work his magic. They didn’t check his face once, instead holding out a cigarette. “Hey!” his fellow escapee waved him over. Mick came over – and same thing, the CO didn’t check his face or anything. His fellow escapee held up the cigarette. Mick took out his lighter and lit the guy’s cigarette.

“Anyone else?” Mick asked. Someone else held out their cigarette, and Mick lit that one as well.

“So where around these parts is there an open place to grab some grub and a cup of coffee?” asked the guy, smooth and brazen and pulling them all just the way he wanted.

“Hey, Sam’s down the street. Come on, I’ll take you so you don’t need to sign all the way out and then all the way back in,” said one of the COs.

“Thanks. That’s very nice of you,” said his fellow escapee. And the CO led them to the front gate.

“Going to get these two coffee,” he explained to the gate guard.

“You want anything while we’re there?” the guy asked the gate guard, who shook his head and opened the gate.

And the CO walked them through the gate. Mick could have laughed till he wept.

The three of them turned a corner and walked to the end of the block, where there was an open bodega. “Anything you need?” Mick asked.

“Other than a good night’s sleep?” he said.

“Couldn’t we all?” the guy laughed. “I’m sure we can find our way back ourselves if you want to head back.”

The guy nodded and started back for the gate. They walked into the store. “Bathroom?” the guy asked the clerk, who gestured. “Thank you.” He gestured for Mick to follow. They found the stalls. The guy put his long fingers against Mick again and opened the door to make it sound like they had gone in. They, he ventured into the storeroom to grab two sets of employee uniforms off their hangers and waved them out the back entrance to an alleyway.

He took off the hat and jacket and mimed for Mick to do the same. Mick did, and they put on the spare uniforms.

Then he flashed Mick a grin. “Let’s get going.”

“You’re a genius, you know that?” Mick told him.

The man laughed. “Too much time on my hands in there. One of these days I would have ended up doing something everyone would regret.” He turned to survey Mick. “I have a place to go where I can lay low for a while. Do you have a similar place?”

Mick shook his head. “Wasn’t planning on getting out of there in fewer’n five years.”

“You can stay with me a few days till you get on your feet. Now let’s go catch a bus. Shall we?” They walked out of the alleyway, and down to a bus shelter. A bus pulled in a few minutes later. They got on, police uniforms tucked into the guy’s bag, paid and took seats in the middle of the bus. A few stops later, the young man tapped his arm and nodded off the bus. They got off and started walking, until they were a block with no sidewalk away. Another bus shelter greeted them, and they got on a bus in the direction. They saw the prison disappear as they rounded onto a freeway and drove out in the direction of Central City proper.

Mick turned to the guy to give him an impressed nod.

The guy smiled. “Thanks. Oh and by the way, I never asked, what’s your name – I mean, other than Fireman? Never did figure that out.” 

“Mick. Mick Rory.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mick. I’m Leonard Snart, robber of ATMs and planner of nitty gritty on jobs. Don’t suppose you’d be up for partnering up for a few jobs.”

Mick had to laugh. “Well, Snart, this looks like the start of a beautiful partnership.”


End file.
